


Far, Far Away

by RenaRoo



Series: Cass Appreciation Prompts [8]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is the One Who is All, and she is the last gambit to save the galaxy from its corrupt Empire. [Star Wars AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far, Far Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemeraltea (temporarily_obsessed)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporarily_obsessed/gifts).



> Prompt: ( ephemeraltea) Fic prompt: Batfam Star Wars AU. Where did it all begin? Where does it (mostly) end? Who is saved, who is lost, along the way?
> 
> [original post in question: http://renaroo.tumblr.com/post/97197636786/can-you-say-batfam-star-wars-au-d ]
> 
> A/N: Tea, you always prompt me to do the things I love and I love you for it <3
> 
> And yes, fans, I’m playing loose with both continuities so please don’t burn me at the stake for it!

He’s eight years old when it happens. 

There’s whispers throughout Coruscant that, after being so vocally in opposition to the Supreme Chancellor without any of the political weight to speak of, the Wayne family of Gotham should simply be grateful for being allowed to have an heir to survive them. Especially when Bruce is _with_ them during the attack.

Everyone knows who the responsibility falls upon in this tragedy. 

Bruce knows, though the specifics of _who_ and _why_ will haunt him until he grows older and more knowledgeable about politics. The so-called investigators -- the Supreme Chancellor’s own -- know. The senate _knows._

Ra’s al Ghul is able to unite the the federation under an Imperial flag and elect himself as Emperor anyway.

The flags go up over the city as Alfred, his father’s trusted adviser and confidante, and Bruce escape through the stratosphere and leave the corrupted, broken planet. Bruce hopes to never see it again.

That is over thirty years ago.

* * *

She has only seen the Emperor once in her few eight years, but even without every stepping foot in a school or being taught to read even the commonspeak of the Empire, she knows that he owns their hearts and souls.

Her mastery is awe inspiring, or so she assumes. Cain’s favor is difficult to receive and she is, by the time she is old enough to leave their citadel, the only Padawan left in his tutelage. 

She fights as well as she can breathe. She feels the ebb and flow of the universe the way one feels rain on their skin. She persuades minds the way others may laugh or smile. 

The One Who is All does not need words. 

Standing across the office from a Neimoidian, she only looks to Master Cain only once. Her squeezes his fist. And that’s all she needs.

The Padawan reaches forth, watches as the Neimoidian stiffens, struggles so slightly, neck extending. She watches his eyes, his glassy, dark eyes, and she continues to squeeze just as her Master has taught her on countless practice run over and over again.

Unlike the countless dummies and toys, though, the Neimoidian squirms. He gurgles and gapes for air, kicks over his seat and chokes out, cries out. He _looks_ at her as eyes bulge and neck muscles strain. He’s silent with crushed vocal cords, but his mind is anything but.

Her eyes widen, the breath knocked out of her as the Force around her, between them, connecting them breaks and whistles and vibrates her very soul. She feels the screams the Neimoidian cannot make, she watches the fear bubble from him and then...

_Nothing...  
_

She screams, throws up her hands, covers her eyes, pulls at her hair. She cries out -- _she didn’t know it was a life how could she know it was a life how could she know it would go away_ \-- she’s eight years old.

Cain is proud, but the lights burst and the windows shatter. He’s lost his control. His Padawan has lost her faith. 

She blows him back through the doors they entered and the nameless Padawan, the One Who is All, leaps through the windows, into Coruscant, and disappears.

That is over nine years ago.

* * *

“That should be the last of it!”

Jason is more than a little familiar with ships. He can name every make and model that has ever landed in Gotham, and possibly name a story of what parts he siphoned off of one as it was left unguarded. 

Daring to mess with the Millennium Bat is how he came across Bruce and Alfred. Impressing them with how he got past their defenses is how he got invited to stay. Staying long enough to run into Dick is how he got to where he is now.

Dick backs off from the hastily put back together Starfighter and smacks his hands together with pride. 

“She looks _beautiful,_ Li’l Wing,” he whistles.

“It looks like shit and you know it,” Jason responds, standing beside his adopted brother. He notices that he’s crossed his arms just like Dick and, with a bit of blush, puts his arms back down by his sides. 

“Seriously, though, thanks,” Dick responds, looking over his shoulder at Jason. “Ha, I really _didn’t_ have any plans after Bruce said ‘no’ to help so... you really saved mine _and_ the rebellion’s butts here.”

“Yeah, the rebellion,” Jason says distantly. 

He’s very familiar with Bruce’s feelings about the rebellion. He’s also very familiar with how Dick running away to join their ranks has been slowly eating at Bruce over the years. 

“It’s so much bigger than Bruce lets on,” Dick says, growing a hardened look as they talk about the man who has raised them. “It’s... It’s not perfect. He’s right. They should be doing more and have acted faster but...” He looks down to Jason. “But you can say the same about Bruce. Siphoning off supplies, giving back to the worst-off quadrants. That’s all good, I rode in that pony show with him for all those years. But I’ve gotta do more.” He steps forward puts his hands on the wings of his Starfighter. “I’ve gotta _fly._ Just like my parents.”

Jason knows what Bruce would say. He’d say ‘Dick, your parents were _shot down.’_ He’s heard the argument enough times to say what both sides would yell.

But he doesn’t bother, because Dick’s words and example have always had a strange effect on Jason he’ll never say out loud. 

“Yeah,” he says instead.

“Good luck, Li’l Wing,” Dick says, beginning to load up. “Tell Dad I’m not sorry.”

“Sure thing,” Jason responds.

He’s already made his mind up about when _he’s_ going to be joining the rebellion and get his own wings. Dick and Bruce just don’t know it yet. 

That is five years ago.

* * *

She doesn’t know whether his expectant look makes her want to _kill_ him more or makes her want to _love_ him more. 

As usual, he’s fortunate the latter instinct wins out and she punches through the control panel. The prison door opens, the guards lay unconscious on the floor, and her Beloved comes toward her once more.

“You’re growing sloppy,” she tells him pointedly. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Bruce says back to her.

“Look me in the eyes,” she demands, reaching to his face and drawing it to hers, looking deeply into his emotionless eyes. “Look me in the eyes, Beloved, and tell me your life does not mater.”

“After Jason...” he says, pulling her hands from his face, “Nothing matters. Not anymore, Talia.”

“Not even I?” she asks.

He pauses. She wonders if he, too, is remembering their life, their games of cat and mouse. Of his hatred for her father, of his passion for her. 

“Not even you,” he says, walking toward the docks. “Goodbye, Talia.”

“May our paths not cross again,” she warns, biting back her own tears. She will show him no weakness or mercy, but she will also not like. “Goodbye, Beloved.”

The known smuggler Bruce Wayne escapes Imperial custody once more, and Talia’s unit is once more taken from her as punishment. She currently lacks loyal guards, and so her visits to Bespin are farther between, more discreet. 

Few know of her son. She plans on keeping it that way. Even if his inconsiderate father is included. 

This is four years ago.

* * *

She’s not sure what she’s staring at. She worked in the kitchen all day, waiting for the shift to end and Tim to pick her up.

When she walks out to a full dressed Storm Trooper, Stephanie screams and drops the dishes she had been carrying. 

When Tim removes his helmet to assure her it’s him, she slaps him as hard as she can over the face. 

“You’re too short to be a storm trooper, you idiot!” she screams, throws her apron at him, and heads out the door.

Looks like she’s walking home today.

Tim follows, words floundering from his mouth but Stephanie just imagines they’re bubbles and stomps on them all as she carries herself through the streets.

“I think this can be a good thing, if I enlist now--”

Unable to take another word, Stephanie whirls around on her heels and throws up her arms. Tim jolts back in surprise, eyes wide. 

“Tim, how the _hell_ is joining the Empire going to make things better? Like. _Ever?”_ she demands pointedly. “That way when our friends get arrested and taken off to Who-Knows-Where, hey! At least it’ll be a familiar face!”

Tim waves for her to quiet, looking around worriedly. “Shh, Steph--”

“Don’t shush me!”

He looks at her weakly. “Steph, you shouldn’t say that stuff out loud. Okay? You don’t have to like them, but the Empire _is_ in charge, and our lives are easier if we get _in_ the system now--”

She smacks him again, but he catches her hand, looking positively hurt. Steph can’t keep back her tears. “You just don’t get it, do you, Tim?” she sniffs. “You’re so dumb for a smart guy. God.”

When she breaks away and keeps on, he doesn’t follow this time. He looks like his heart is broken, and Steph hopes with everything in her that it is. Because he just crushed her. 

While she might know the city like the back of her hand, Stephanie makes a point of getting herself lost in its maze of alleys and buildings. She doesn’t want to make it home with her heart still thumping the way it is, without anything solid to say to Tim.

“C’mon, Brown,” she mutters, grabbing her hair at its roots. “Get it together...” 

She pauses as she hears rustling nearby, looking toward the distant alley where a garbage heap is being explored by a girl in ragged attire. 

Stephanie, for whatever reason, feels drawn to her. 

The girl looks up, turns her head slightly, and smiles to Steph, holding up a bruised fruit that had been thrown with the rest of the trash. The girl bites into it ravenously. 

Despite working in a restaurant, Stephanie is no stranger to hunger. “Hey,” she says, stepping closer, “are you alright?”

Her words are barely out when there’s a shout from the other side of the alley. Both Steph and the girl turn to face the Stormtroopers heading their way. 

“It’s her! Get her!” 

Steph freezes, eyes wide. _Surely_ her ex hadn’t already sold her out to the Empire-- “Omigawd I’ll kill him omigawd I’ll kill him--”

The troopers move past her, rushing the hungry girl. And, despite herself, Steph immediately wonders if the girl stole something for food or money.

But the stance the girl takes is _not_ one of a street rat. She squares her body, spits out the core of the fruit she had been eating, and waits. There is an aura around her that even Steph feels daunted by.

The girl waits then lifts her hands. Likewise, the Stormtroopers lift into the air, feet scrambling without ground. She drops her hand, the troopers follow suit. 

Without warning, the girl leaps over the Imperial troopers, grabs Stephanie’s wrist, and rushes with her down a distant alley, grinning from ear to ear. 

Steph feels euphoric. Like she is _meant_ to start this adventure. 

“I have somewhere we can hide,” she tells the girl. The girl nods. Stephanie takes the lead.

There’s nowhere better to hide than under the Empire’s very nose. Maybe Tim’s idiocy will be helpful after all.

This is now.

* * *

He’s their best pilot, she knows that first hand. He’s the one she owes her safe transport to Hoth after the Emperor’s unleashed Sith Lord pet took it upon himself to take the two legs she stands on.

Barbara, Princess of Alderaan, Leader of the Rebellion, is not put down. She is still standing, even if it is from a throne.

Still, while she can’t afford to have favorites, she does rely on some more than others, likes to keep them close.

Like Helena, who stands beside her even now as Dick approaches.

He smiles at them in familiarity, but there’s a worn look to his eyes. He’s cut sharper, the way shadows linger over his features darker.

Things have just not been the same between them since he lost his brother. 

Or, more specifically, since the Rebellion lost his brother. 

“You asked for me?” he prods at last.

“We have information,” Barbara says slowly, directly. “Information we can’t let many people know about, and that must be acted upon by us _immediately.”_

He blinks at her, looks to Helena who just crosses her arms.

“And how big is this information?” he asks suspiciously.

“It could win or lose this rebellion,” Helena says stiffly. “That’s why we’re sending you and David to retrieve her.”

Dick blinks again, a little off guard. “Her?” he asks.

“Her,” Barbara answers clearly. “Grayson, we have a trail to follow. We might have a hold on the Empire’s number one fugitive, the equal in power to the emperor himself, _the One Who is All.”_

There’s a hesitance in his stiff shoulders, he turns his head at them. “If you believe in this Force mumbo jumbo.”

“It’s real, Dick,” Barbara assures him, touching softly at her stomach, where she can still at times feel the twisting of her body. “I can assure you of that. Which is why we _must_ have this girl. You _must_ find her and bring her back to us.”

“The rebellion relies on you, Grayson,” Helena says, looking down her nose at him. “Hopefully you can do your part to save the galaxy.”

He smirks. “Count on it.”

* * *

He hasn’t signed up for this -- if they’re working in specifics, Tim has signed up for the _opposite_ of this. But here he is, chased by the legions of Imperial guards and enforcers that he was considering lending his services to.

While he’s more than sure that the irony is not lost on Stephanie, he doesn’t think that they’ve had much time to really consider it between her smacking a Stormtrooper over the head with a bar stool, running into the Rebel pilot seemingly sure of himself and his plan to take them across the galaxy to Hoth, and the current running for their lives through the streets of Gotham.

Despite being responsible for all of this mess, One Who is All seems strangely satisfied with their acquaintance. 

“My co-pilot will have our transport ready to launch the second we set foot on it!” this pilot says over his shoulder, glittering smiles and wild eyes. He introduces himself as Dick and Tim thinks it’s an accurate name for a cocksure flyboy. Tim kind of likes him already. 

“How sure are we that we’ll all fit?” Tim asks.

“We’ll all fit--” Dick says, skidding to a halt and holding out his arms to likewise stop the three fugitives following. 

Instinctively, Tim grabs Stephanie to make sure she doesn’t fall. It gets him a shove into their Jedi friend who just laughs and shoves him back. 

“Why’re we stopping!?” Steph vocalizes just as a similarly dressed pilot comes running toward them.

Tim glares at Dick. “Is _that_ your co-pilot who’s ready at the helm?”

“David, what the hell, man!” Dick says, emphatically gesturing. “There’s kind of a plan in motion and it involves us getting on--”

“They found the Batwing,” this David character responds, putting his hands on his head. “We’ve lost her, Dick! We’ve lost my baby. I don’t know how the hell this is going to work without her. And it won’t be long before they close every port in Gotham, if not the planet!”

Again, Tim finds himself giving Cassandra the once-over. _Again..._ all for _her?_

Dick puts his head in his hands.

“All the _legal_ ports, you mean,” Dick mutters.

“What other ports could there be?” Tim asks.

The Rebels and fellow fugitives alike stare at him as though he’s a Gungan with three eyes. 

“Ignore him, he’s _very_ by the books,” Stephanie sighs, patting his head. 

David looks at Dick sorrowfully. “We have to go to him, Dick. You’re going to have to talk him into letting us use his port and get us off this planet.” The man levels his gaze on Cassandra, as if mesmerized by her presence. “If it’s true, if she’s _the One_ , then it could be everything. It could mean the _end_ of this war and of the Empire.”

Looking nervous for the first time, the One Who is All grips her arms and looks to her bare feet. Tim suddenly feels his waves of sympathy for the homeless girl returning. She’s not had the best of lives, that’s for certain. 

They all then look to Dick. 

“Okay,” he agrees. “But if this is going to work, I have to stop by a friend’s house first. And _quick.”_

* * *

Bruce never regrets the connections he makes, but it doesn’t make him any more likely to make them. Selina is one of the connections who gave him a reason to be weary. 

She knows him too well, just as he knows her too well. Their lives in Gotham have a sad sense of harmony. Their mutual distrust of both the Empire and the Rebellion makes them indescribable outsiders. 

Selina can understand him. She can also out survive him.

“You left me to die,” he says to her, momentarily ignoring the other fugitives brought to his door. “Without my cargo.”

“Yes,” she agrees, hands on her hips. “But I _did_ get the cargo out of there in one piece.”

To anyone else in the world this would seem like a despicable thing to say.

To Bruce it rings loud and clear -- it is business, not personal. 

He could never do the same to her, but that’s his fault. Not hers. He can respect that.

Selina he can understand, but Dick... these others... 

“You expect everyone to get a free ride?” Bruce says darkly to his prodigal son. “For you?”

Dick stares at Bruce blankly. The last time they me it ended in punches. 

“No,” he says. “For Jason.”

Bruce feels himself grow cold and stiff at the mention of his lost son. Even Selina does a second take, looking at Dick like he has lost his mind.

But for all his showmanship, Dick remains confidant. He puts his hands around the black haired girl’s shoulders, squeezes them. “Jason died for this girl, Bruce. She can end this war. For Jason.”

It suddenly clicks, Bruce remembers the WANTED bulletins he’s checked a thousand times for any of his alias’ names. He recognizes the One.

“You,” he says. “You’re a Sith.”

The girl’s eyes shine with something that Bruce finds indescribable. 

“I’m a Jedi,” she answers, speaking for the first time since Bruce has met them.

* * *

The Millennium Bat _can_ comfortably support all the passengers throughout its various rooms, but only if a few stay with Bruce in the cabin. 

After his behavior, he is hoping that the passengers get a fair understanding of his direct desire to _not_ have that happen.

Selina and Dick, though, know him too well. And this David character seems distinctly uninterested in letting Bruce tell him what to do. He’s quiet, though, so Bruce accepts his company.

Selina is curled up in the co-pilot’s chair, tail wrapped around her as she stares almost sardonically into the vastness of space. 

Dick re-enters the cabin after not nearly enough time of being gone. 

“Everyone seems settled back there,” he announces as he walks to the seat beside David. 

“Wonderful,” Bruce says firmly. 

Dick hesitates before sitting. “Are you _still_ only taking us as far as Alderaan?” he asks almost hopefully.

“Yes,” Bruce says firmly. “It’s rebellion friendly. You can make it to Hoth from... there...”

He glares ahead. He has flown through the galaxy enough times to know there’s no reason they shouldn’t be seeing Alderaan yet. Dick falls silent, having sensed to much the same.

Selina stares at him expectantly, her whiskers bristling. “What is it?” she asks.

“Where is it?” Dick questions. “I don’t understand...”

David looks to Dick. “We had a fleet stationed there.”

Alderaan is gone, but Bruce can’t accept it. He checks their coordinates. They read as expected. He slams his fist on the screen to try to see if it’s broken. Nothing changes.

“Oh my god, Bruce,” Selina gasps.

Bruce looks up, eyes widening as he sees the asteroid before them. He maneuvers around it, finds that sure enough there are more.

“When was there ever an asteroid belt here?” Selina demands.

“Never,” Dick answers as they navigate through.

“My god,” David whispers. “It’s Alderaan.”

Bruce feels his stomach drop, he dares to take his eyes from the space before them only when he feels the prickling sensation on the back of his neck that someone else is behind him. 

It’s the One. She somehow snuck all the way into the cabin without making a single sound. 

Her eyes are locked forward. Bruce knows she never knew a soul from Alderaan, but all the same tears flood her cheeks. 

* * *

He watches as his mother gathers their things, but only for a moment.

When it bores him, Damian looks down to the scratchy fabrics and unfitting clothes she dressed him in. Curling his nose, he pulls at the fabric. 

“Mother,” he says, “these clothes are unnecessary. I have my own attire. Attire that isn’t _beneath_ us.”

“The maid’s son’s clothes are not beneath you now, my son,” she responds, dressing in a dress and robes of equal stature. She hides her beautiful hair beneath a cloak’s hood and then stares at Damian. “We will be outlaws. Nothing is beneath us now.”

He stamps his foot angrily. 

“You still haven’t told me why!” he exclaims, ignoring the way the room shakes in response. 

“Because, Damian,” she says, snapping a case closed and sliding it into a satchel she then drapes over him. “The Emperor wishes to use you. He wants you to prove yourself by finding he One Who is All.”

Damian narrows his eyes and gleefully forms fists. “Then I shall prove myself. I will be emperor--”

His mother shakes her head sorrowfully. “No one shall ever be emperor so long as my father lives, Damian. You know this. We all know this. Soon _you_ will be in his way as well.”

“Then _why,_ mother?” he asks. “Why not do things now? Why run?”

“Because we must,” she says, grabbing his hand and beginning to take him toward the hidden passage behind her closet door. “Because you will at last meet your father if we do.”

Well, Damian likes the sounds of _that._

* * *

Getting to Hoth is a tougher order than she ever thought it could be. 

One stop refueling and they’re met with Imperial guards unlike any she has ever seen before -- which is saying something considering her exposure as the One Who is All. 

They get divided up, though this Bruce character seems to trust Dick and Selina well enough to know that he wants to meet them back at their ride once everything is said or done.

“I’d like to think they’re smart enough to leave us if things get too hairy,” Bruce whispers to her as he looks around the corner, checking for the guards. “But considering everyone’s in this mess because we’re trying to transport _you_ , that’s not likely to happen.”

She blinks at him, says quietly, “You’re wrong. For everyone, Dick would leave me. But never you.”

He looks at her, a little caught off guard. “What is that supposed to--” he stops, looks beyond her, and grabs her shoulders, pulling her down with him. “DOWN!”

The laser fire is barely missed. 

She feels terribly helpless, whipping around to see the strangely clad soldiers again before Bruce drags her toward another escape. “How? I didn’t sense--”

“Those are the personal guards of the Emperor’s family,” Bruce announces, stopping again once they find cover. “I’ve... got experience with them.” He looks at her seriously. “They’re immune to your magic tricks.”

The One frowns. “The _Force_ ,” she corrects.

At last, she senses, turns and locks eyes with one of the approaching guards. “Cover your face,” she whispers to Bruce, which he reluctantly does. “Wrong direction,” she says to the guard. “They went the other way.”

The guard turns and jogs toward the other direction.

She smirks. “Not _all_ immune,” she says looking back to Bruce. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

Bruce nods slowly, smirks. “Thanks to you for the same.” He holds her hand and starts back toward their destination. “Let’s get out of here before another close encounter. I’m not sure _why_ Talia’s guards are here, but I don’t like it...”

Not wanting to break the moment, the One decides to not ask how Bruce knows Lady Talia.

* * *

Helena watches the mismatched crew as they approach her from the docking bay. She’s not sure what to make of them, not sure how safe they are for the Rebellion to be allying with. 

Even the one Barbara’s been intent on following up on -- this _One Who is All_ \-- is not someone Helena wholly trusts. They don’t know much about her outside of the fact that she’s been he Emperor’s number one concern after their own forces. 

The fact that the Rebellion is so well known across the galaxy and that this child has never bothered to come to them before is concerning.

Still, as Grayson and Zavimbe come to the lead of the large envoy, Helena nods and turns to lead them toward the central command chamber and Barbara herself.

David comes to her side readily. 

“Is she the one we’re looking for?” Helena asks him. She tilts her head toward the rest of the ragtag group. “Or is Grayson just hoping for a family reunion?”

“Oh, she is,” David says with a nod. “There is no doubt, Commander Bertinelli.”

“Good,” Helena says, stopping short of the door. She stands firmly, crossing her arms as she faces the group. “The One Who is All may enter. The rest of you are going to run your stories by me, make sure they check out.”

They shift uncomfortably, in unison. 

The catlike creature folds her arms and tilts her head back at Helena. “We’ve been through a lot to be treated like leftovers,” she hisses.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Helena responds, focusing on the black haired girl. “We’ve put a lot of faith into you, girl. I hope you live up to it.”

She only blinks in response before moving forward, passing through the door to Helena’s right. The doors slide closed behind her. 

Oddly enough, Helena can feel the immediate shift among the group -- every last one of them wish to follow the girl, even Helena’s own men.

Perhaps this _One_ is indeed the one they needed after all.

* * *

Barbara smiles at her, feels _something_ stir within her that she hasn’t felt since the death of her father. Since the destruction of all she knew.

The One is both everything Barbara was expecting... and nothing she was expecting at all.

“Hello,” Barbara says softly. “I am guessing you are the One.”

She nods. 

“You’re younger than I expected,” the Rebel leader says, putting a hand to her chin. “You’re shorter, too. Leaner. But... I suppose you would have to be after running for so long.”

There is an unmistakable flicker in the One’s eyes. “I am _done._ Running.”

Nodding, Barbara slowly eases her hands onto the armrests of her chair. “As am I. I’m done with letting others decide fate.”

The girl makes a staunch frown, folding her arms. There’s something detectable about her aura -- it’s never hidden. That could prove to be a problem. “I think fate is real,” she says. “The Force... _moves_ us.”

Kindly, Barbara leans forward. “But... if that’s the case, then we have no choices.”

The girl’s eyes narrow. “No. We _can_ change. We _can_ change it. The Force. That is why I am a Jedi.”

Leaning back, Barbara’s eyes widen. “Well. I will be the first to admit, I’m not atuned to this... mythical Force. The only ones I’ve met who are have been the sort to abuse that connection, to rule, to conquer. There have been no Jedi for many years.” She frowns. “Because of the Sith. Like your father.”

Her head drops slightly, she seems to remember something. Then she looks back to Barbara. “I am not my father. I am a Jedi. And I will change the galaxy.”

Releasing a soft smile, Barbara folds her hands on her lap. “They call me an Oracle. People believe that I can foresee things, lead us to victory through this vision. That has yet to be proven... but I did foresee the possibility of leading the galaxy into freedom. Of a system without the Empire. If we had you.”

The One shifts, but doesn’t back down.

“My name is Barbara,” the leader continues. “And I also believe in change. But I think it starts small. I think it starts with you, the One Who is All. What do you think you can change about yourself first?”

Looking up, the girl’s eyes flicker, she smiles. “My name. A real one. I don’t have one,” she tells Barbara. “Give me a name... I will help you.”

“Very well,” Barbara says with a nod. “I’m glad to have you on board... Cassandra.

“Welcome to the New Republic.”


End file.
